Entropy
by thisishowtheworldends
Summary: Sofia Robbin Sloan Torres seems to have it all: a close-knit family, good friends, brains, and incredible athletic ability as a competitive gymnast. But when she experiences a deeply horrifying trauma, her life begins to unravel. Multi-Chapter. TW/CW: Sexual assault.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction. In case it's not obvious, Mom refers to Arizona and Mami refers to Callie.**

 **Trigger warning: This fanfiction will tackle the subject of sexual assault, albeit not graphically.**

As I step out of the rental Chevrolet Tahoe, a gush of wind nearly causes me to topple backwards into the concrete. I right myself and look around in all directions, stunned by the beautiful neo-Gothic architecture of the residence halls. Even though it's the middle of summer, the warm chestnut and striking gray hues of the buildings surrounding the quad in the middle of Old Campus makes me feel the familiar excitement of the beginning of fall, the sharp sense that anything and everything possible, closely within reach.

"I love it." I proclaim.

Mami shakes her head and laughs. "We've been here all of two minutes. You haven't even been on the tour yet."

I shrug and can't stop a smile from spreading across my face. "Look how beautiful the campus is! This is exactly what college is supposed to look like."

Mom pats me on the back. "She's right," she says, smirking at Mami. They lean in for a quick kiss. I throw my hand over my eyes and fake-gag.

"Okay, ew! No PDA." I say. Mom and Mami kiss again in response. I roll my eyes, grab Zola by the arm, and start walking towards High Street.

We quickly get into a discussion about the academic opportunities here at Yale. "They have a History of Science, Medicine, and Public Health major!" I exclaim. "I don't know how I'd be able to decide between that and Cognitive Science."

"I'm leaning towards the Molecular, Cellular, and Developmental Biology major." Zola says. I nod.

"That's totally you. You're definitely following in your dad's footsteps." I remark. Zola has wanted to become a neurosurgeon since she was like 5. When we would get together to play as children, we ended up ripping the arms off of Barbies and cutting into stuffed animals more often than not. Perks of being the children of surgeons, I guess.

She grins. "Okay, but neurosurgery is totally cool!" I nod in agreement as Derek comes up from behind her and pats her on the back.

"You're my favorite kid," he jokes. Meredith lightly slaps him in the shoulder.

"Derek!" She says. We all start laughing.

Mami pointedly looks at me. "I can't get Sofia to even consider ortho. She says it's gross."

I shrug and smirk. "It is. Who wants to break bones for a living?" I pretend to shudder. "Peds is way cooler," I joke.

Mom tilts her head at Mami. "Isn't that right, Callie?" Mom gives Mami an innocent smile. Mami glares back at her.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Arizona. Ortho is way more bad-ass than peds, and you know it."

"Alright guys," I say, putting both hands up. "Let's have this discussion later. You know it can get pretty heated, and we have an information session to get to."

They both grin and we head towards the Office of Undergraduate Admissions. As we sit through the information session, both Zola and I sit at the edge of our seats. The walking tour takes about an hour and a half, but it feels like the time flies by as we walk through beautiful grassy quads flanked by towering buildings that command attention and respect with their history and their purpose.

After the tour, Zola and I both look through the T-shirts at the Student store. "You will know where you're going to school next May." Derek remarks. "That means if you don't go to Yale you can only wear those shirts for like 9 months."

Meredith rolls her eyes. "Let them buy the damn T-shirts, Derek." Derek shrugs. Zola rolls her eyes at him and we head to the cash register. Once we're done, we pile in the Tahoe and begin the hour-long drive to the hotel beside the Hartford airport. Our week and a half long college tour is over and we're heading back to Seattle early tomorrow morning.

"So, which college was your favorite?" Mom asks us.

"Harvard," Zola says. "Without a doubt. I loved Johns Hopkins and Yale too. But I really did like all of them though."

I nod. "They are all definitely wonderful schools. But if it wasn't obvious, I really love Yale. Plus, it has a division 1 gymnastics team, so that's a bonus."

Zola fakes shock. "You like Yale? I had no idea! It's not like you haven't been constantly talking about it for the past couple hours!"

I roll my eyes. That would have been a rude response if it were anyone else, but Zola and I are practically sisters, and I am very familiar with her abundant sense of sarcasm that she inherited from her Aunt Amelia.

"Okay, so I'm a little excited," I admit.

"A lot." Mom says under her breath.

"Mom!" I say. She gives me a guilty smile.

"Kidding," she says. "You know your enthusiasm is my favorite thing about you."

Now she's getting all gushy and sappy in front of 4 other people. I mean, granted, in front of my other Mom and my closest friend and her parents, but still. "Alright, alright Mom. I know."

We wake up the next morning at 4 to get ready for our 7 a.m. flight. I'm used to waking up early for gymnastics competitions, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it. I'm basically a zombie until I'm able to grab some iced coffee and from the Starbucks in the airport. Zola gets a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream even though it's the middle of summer, like she always does.

We arrive at the terminal an hour early. "So, why did we have to get up so early again?" I ask. Mami just rolls her eyes at me. There's a bookstore right across from where we're sitting, so I decide to go check it out with Mom and Mami.

I check out the books in the nonfiction section while Mom and Mami check out the popular fiction. I'm reading the inside cover of a memoir by a physicist when I hear a kid say to his mother, "Why are those ladies holding hands?"

I look up from my book and turn my head. A blonde-headed boy and his graying mother are standing behind Mom and Mami, facing their backs. The mom's lips are pursed in a straight, pink line. Almost instinctively, my hands ball up into fists.

"They shouldn't be," she tells the boy. He looks up at her with wide blue eyes. "It's a sin."

Mami looks around at her and glares. She begins to say something, but Mom puts her hand on Mami's shoulder to stop her.

"Like lying?" He asks.

"Much worse," she states, condescension dripping from her voice. It feels like fire is spreading through my belly, lighting up my organs from the inside out.

I walk towards my moms, traveling directly in front of the mom and kid. I pointedly look at her and then say, "hey Mom and Mami, I think we should go."

I'm still seething when I sit down by Zola in the terminal.

"I hate people." I say.

"What happened?" Alarmed, she looks at the adults.

Mami shrugs. "Homophobes."

"Oh," Zola says.

Meredith shakes her head. "People are stupid. I'm sorry, guys."

Mom smiles, showing her dimples. "We're used to it. People always have a reaction." She looks at me, slumped in my seat with my arms crossed in front of my chest. "I appreciate your support, darling, but cheer up."

With her happy-go-lucky attitude and her sharp sense of humor, Mom is great at diffusing uncomfortable situations. The tension and frustration quickly evaporates. Soon, we begin to board. Zola's mildly afraid of heights, so she always lets me have the window seat when traveling. As the plane takes off and we fly through the patches of clouds, I imagine myself floating in the air, free and unburdened, until I fall asleep with my cheek pressed against the glass.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, I'm welcomed back by the familiar sound of the gym: the slight creak of the bend of the uneven bars, the satisfaction of the thump of a solid landing. As I stretch and warm-up, I go through the motions of my routines in my head. Our next meet is 1 week, and since scouts from colleges will be there, I need to be at my very best.

I run through the first pass of my floor routine. Running start, round off, back handspring, back handspring, double layout, punch front. I've been working on this pass for a long time and I'm finally ready to perform it. My coach, James, gives me a high-five. "Not bad for taking a week and a half off!"

I smile at him. "You know, college is important too," I say playfully.

"Yeah, and UCLA's pursing you," he reminds me. "They have one of the best collegiate teams in the country."

"I know, I know, but I really don't want to stay on the West Coast. You know that."

"Well, we can worry about this later." He claps his hands together. "Now let's get back to work!"

4 grueling but rewarding hours later, I leave the gym and head to day care to pick up Mark and Bella. I decide to treat them today since I haven't spent much time with them recently. "Where would you guys like to go to lunch?" I ask as we leave the day care center. "We can bring Mami and Mom something after we eat!"

"Xander's!" Mark exclaims, his dark brown eyes lighting up. I'm not surprised by his suggestion. Xander's a local burger joint, also has a wide array of video games.

"I want pizza," Bella whines. She's a mirror image of Mom, and her dimples show when she frowns. I smile widely back at her.

"We're having pizza tonight, remember?" I remind them. "Mom and Mami both have dinner off, so we're having a family dinner!"

"Yay!" Xander's it is. Bella and Mark both get kid's meals with burgers, fries, and a small soda. Since I'm training and competition is so close, I can't really afford to have a burger, so I have a grilled chicken salad. I give Bella and Mark 2 dollars in quarters each and let them play video games as I text Zola.

"Amelia wants to take us to a movie tonight," she writes. "You in?"

"Family meal," I respond. "But I'm probably free after 9 or so."

"That's perfect! The new Marvel movie is playing at 9:45," she writes back.

"Great! Meet you at your house at 9:15." I finish up the text, grab Mom and Mami's lunches, a hotdog with sweet potato fries and cheeseburger with cole slaw, and somehow manage after a couple of tries to get Bella and Mark to finish up their games.

Once we arrive at the hospital, we head to the attending's lounge. We pass April on the way, who gives me a big hug and high fives Bella and Mark. "Good luck next Saturday!" She tells me.

"Thanks!" I say. We reach the lounge a couple of minutes before our parents' breaks, so we sit down on the couches.

Alex Karev comes in. "Hey kiddos!" He greets us. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Bringing Mom and Mami lunch!" Mark says. "Hey, look, I can do a cartwheel!"

He begins to do one, but I stop him so he won't knock over anything. "Remember what Mom said. No cartwheels in the hospital." I know he's just trying to impress Alex, who he adores, but it would be super embarrassing if he broke something.

"But Sofie," he whines. Luckily, Mom and Mami walk into the lounge. Both of their faces light up as Mark and Bella give them a hug.

"Guess what, Mommy? We brought you lunch!" Bella says with her signature slight lisp, her arms tightly wrapped around Mom's legs.

I smile. "Surprise!" I say, holding out the white paper bags with their food. "We thought you would enjoy this."

Mom frees herself from Bella and gives me a hug. "Thank you, sweetie. You're so thoughtful!"

Mami echoes Mom's sentiments. "Seriously, this brightened my day!"

For the rest of their break, they eat as Bella and Mark take turns talking. I look at my family, happy and excited and together, and realize how much I'm going to miss this next year when I head off to college.


	3. Chapter 3

The week passes quickly, and my anxiety increases exponentially as I prepare for the meet. I'm practicing 6 hours a day, as much as I can and still take care of Bella and Mark in the afternoons and in the evenings when both Mom and Mami are at work.

I'm so on edge that I'm not hungry and I can't sleep. I'm a bundle of nerves and adrenaline, ready to explode. So when Bella decides to refuse to spend a couple of hours on Thursday at Meredith's so I can go to the gym, I almost lose it.

"I don't wanna go," she whines, faced scrunched up and teary. "I wanna stay here and play with my dolls."

"You can take them with you to Mere's." I respond, to which she starts crying harder. "Come on, Bella. You love Aunt Mere!"

"I don't wanna."

I try to pick her up, but she flails and smacks me in the chest. "Bella, come on!" I say. "I need to go to the gym."

"I'm not going!" She yells. "I don't wanna!"

"Bella! Jesus Christ!" I yell back. "You are so freaking annoying. Come on."

"I'm gonna tell mom you said that," Mark says from the couch where he's sitting, waiting on us.

"No, you're not," I respond. Bella starts crying harder.

"Why do you have to be such a brat?" I yell as the door opens. Crap. Mami's home early.

"What is going on here? I could hear you from outside." She raises her eyes, crosses her arms, and gives me a death glare.

"I need to go practice, and Bella's throwing a fit, as usual." I respond sharply. "Why are you home anyway?"

"Cut the attitude." She moves into the living room to pick up Bella. "My surgery was cancelled." She rubs Bella's back. "It's okay, Belle."

I roll my eyes. Of course Bella gets away with everything because she's the youngest. "Alright, bye." I say. I slam the door on my way out. I know I'm going to get in trouble for that later, but right now, I'm too wired and stressed to even care.

I work out first, doing 30 minutes on a treadmill and then 30 minutes of weight training. Afterwards, I go through my routines on the 4 apparatuses over and over until I feel like I've done a solid job. By the time I'm finished, it's 7 p.m. I'm not in the mood for a lecture, so I drive around Seattle and listen to music until I've calmed down.

When I get home around 8:30, I find my parents sitting on the couch. Mom lays her head on Mami's shoulder as Mami scrolls through the TV channels. When they hear the door open, they call for me to join them in the living room.

I'm apologizing before I even sit down. "Okay, listen," I say. "I was a brat earlier, and I'm sorry. I'm just stressed. You know how important this meet is to me."

"We know that," Mom replies. "But you also know that taking care of your siblings is part of your responsibility."

"I know," I say. "This meet is just the biggest of my life, and…" I try to hold it back, but a tear streams down my face. "I'm so scared."

"Come here," Mami says, patting the empty space on the couch beside her. When I sit down, she gives me a big hug. "It'll be okay." She says, rubbing my back.

I shake my head as tears flow down my face. "But how can you know that? What if I fall off the beam? What if I completely mess up? What if UCLA pulls their offer?" I rub my eyes, trying to stop the tears.

Mom leans over Mami and grabs my hand. "Have you been taking your medicine?" She asks softly. Three years ago, my parents took me to a psychiatrist when they realized that my constant worrying about school, gymnastics, and safety was unhealthy. I've been on Cymbalta for generalized anxiety disorder since.

I nod. "Of course," I say. "It's just…I don't know…senior year and everything…and this meet…I'm worried that I'm going to fail and I won't go to a good college and I won't get into med school and…"

"You're catastrophizing," Mami says, still rubbing my back softly. "You will get into college, and you will get into med school if that's the path you want to take," she reassures me. "As long as you do your best, you will be fine."

"Mami's right," Mom says as she squeezes my hand. "You know we love you unconditionally, whatever happens. Trust that the hard work you have put into gymnastics and school will pay off. Because it will." She promises.

"Okay." I say, my voice still slightly shaking. "I love you," I say, giving both of them a hug. "Thank you, and again, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Sof," Mami says. "Just remember Bella's only 4. You threw fits when you were her age too."

"I know, I know," I smile. "I was a handful, wasn't I?"

They both chuckle. "Definitely," Mom says. "Oh, and you need to apologize to Belle tomorrow." She says. "And then we can forget about this. No harm done."

"Okay," I reply. "I will." I hug them again and then stand up. "I'm gonna watch a show or two and then go to bed." I say. "Good night! I love you both."

They echo my sentiments and go back to watching the T.V. as Mom lays her head on Mami's shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi everyone! I'm sorry it's been so long since I last updated. I changed the rating from T to M because of topics I will tackle starting next chapter. Thanks for reading!

xxxxx

"Although fear can be unpleasant and even debilitating, it serves to protect and to warn, to guide and to caution. As a gymnast, I have to do the opposite of what my body wants to do. I have to laugh in the face of fear as I fly from bar to bar, do flips on a beam not much wider than a credit card, and tumble in the air. That's why gymnasts usually start as soon as we can walk. We start before the phobia of heights or injury can set in so we can defy what makes us human, what helps us survive. It sounds pretty absurd when you think about it. But the absence of fear is the one thing I have always had control over.

I was born into chaos - by C-section at 24 weeks old after a car crash that almost killed me and one of my mothers. After I defied the odds by surviving, my other mother and my father were in a plane crash, which left my father dead and my mother without a leg."

I don't know where this is going. It's 7 am, the day of my meet, and I'm working on my common app essay, but I'm not really getting anywhere. All this has done is make me miss my dad that I don't remember. As I wonder what it would be like if he could be here to watch my meet, I feel a rush of sadness in my chest, so intense that it threatens to overwhelm me. I hold back tears as I close my laptop and head downstairs to the kitchen.

I've been up since 4:30, but I'm anything but tired. The pre-meet jitters course through my body as I pace back in forth in the living room, going over my routines in my head.

"Sof!" Bella says as she runs into the living room and hops onto a couch, jumping up and down. "Look, I'm a gymnast, just like you!"

I pick her up and spin her around. She giggles and stretches her arms like she's flying.

I laugh and set her down at the end of the couch. "Sorry I was mean yesterday," I say. "I promise I'll be nice from now own." She grins. "Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise," I say, linking my right pinky with hers.

xxx

Luckily, the meet is held at our gymnasium, so I have a chance to warm up and practice my routines a couple of times before the other teams get there. I find out that I'm going 1st on vault, 11th on bars, 21st on beam, and 31st on floor. I'm at the beginning of each 10-person rotation, since I got 1st place at the regional meet. I usually like ending with floor, but since I'm trying a new pass, I'm frustrated that I'll have to wait the whole meet to perform it, because it basically guarantees that I will be anxious the entire time.

I'm really thankful that both Mom and Mami made sure to take off work for the meet. They have been so supportive of my gymnastics career, which is pretty incredible considering the jobs that they work. Mark is at a playdate, and Bella's at the meet with us. She is in a Mommy-and-Me gymnastics class with Mami and loves jumping on the furniture, which is why we ended up getting a trampoline a couple months back, even though Mom thinks they're dangerous. They very well may be, but so is gymnastics in general.

I listen to music by The Weeknd as I warm up. Mama calls their music "foul". I guess she has a point, but it's what gets me energetic and focused, so I listen to it anyway.

When the other teams arrive, I go to the office in the back of the gym that's rarely occupied. I hate seeing other gymnasts before the meet officially begins, especially the people I'm going to compete against. I know she's here - Cassidy Miller - my biggest competition and one of the bitchiest people I know. When I was in 7th grade, she called me "dyke child" until she almost got thrown out of a meet. It's just my luck that UCLA is pursuing her too.

It doesn't help that she's drop dead gorgeous, with long auburn hair and green eyes. I try not to, but sometimes I can't help but feel insecure because I'm usually one of the only people of color at these meets. I'm proud of my heritage, I really am, Just sometimes societal standards and stereotypes can get to you, even if you know they're bullshit.

I leave the office with 5 minutes before the meet. I grin and wave at my family and Zola in the stands and join my team. Eliza, my best friend from the gym, envelopes me in a big hug.

"You are literally going win this meet," she says. I laugh and shake my head.

"Don't say that. Cassidy's here," I say, making a face.

She rolls her eyes. "Cassidy has gotten 2nd at the last two meets - behind you, I might add. Third times the charm, right?"

"I sure hope so." I say, rubbing my hands together with nervous energy. "I can't believe Yale scouts are here."

"Nooooooo." She says, shaking her head. "Come to UCLA with me!" She committed the day she got her offer. It's been her dream school since we were kids, and so it's really exciting and rewarding to see that her goals have come to fruition.

Once the meet starts, Eliza and I head over to the vault rotation. I get two practice vaults first, which go pretty smoothly. "Nice," Eliza whispers to me as I walk past her to prepare for the real thing.

On the first vault, I take a pretty far step out of my landing. "Crap," I think. That's going to be a significant deduction. I look at Cassidy, who's trying to hide a smirk. I face forward, adjust my shoulders, straighten my posture, and prepare for the second vault.

I nail it. Legs straight and together, rotation exactly right, stuck landing. A grin erupts on my face as Eliza gives me a huge hug. Mom and Mami are standing and clapping. "You go, girl," Mom mouths. I give her a thumbs up.

At the end of the rotation, Cassidy's in first, with a .105 lead, I'm in 2nd, and Eliza's in 4th. I'm a little nervous, but I can definitely catch up to Cassidy if I nail my next routines.

Eliza's amazing at bars. She gets a score .500 points higher than the rest of the competition, placing her in 2nd, .055 behind Cassidy. I'm only .025 behind Eliza, with my best events coming up.

Cassidy's behind me as we walk from beam to bars. She leans forward and whispers in my ear, "Sucks your Dad couldn't make it. He would have loved to see you fail."

My heart stops. I clench my fists and turn around. "Leave my Dad out of this," I say.

She pretends to cry and rub her eyes. "Oh, boo hoo. Little Sofie misses her Daddy."

"Ladies!" One of the meet facilitators gestures at us. "Get going." I turn around, square my shoulders, and try to not explode. Once at the beam, I look up at Mom and Mami, hoping they didn't see my interaction with Cassidy. They're looking at me with confusion and concern. Crap.

I throw it all into my beam routine - my anger, my frustration, my anxiety. I score the highest score of the meet thus far, putting me in 1st.

When Cassidy attempts her aerial, her right foot slips and she completely falls off of the beam, resulting in a 1.000 point deduction. I try not to gloat, but I can't help but feel some satisfaction as I think about the comments she made earlier in the meet. That leaves me in 1st, Eliza in 2nd, and Cassidy in 6th with the floor routine left.

As I get ready to attempt my new pass at a competition for the first time, I take a second to close my eyes and imagine standing in front of Vanderbilt Hall at Yale. That's the ultimate goal. As the music starts and I run into my first pass, I focus on the feel of the mat below me, the air that rushes around me, and the sound of my heartbeat pulsing.

Round off, back handspring, back handspring, double layout, punch front. I almost take a tiny step out of bounds, but I save myself at the last minute. I'm relieved by the end of the routine. It's not my best, but it's certainly acceptable. I just have something to improve on for the next meet.

Cassidy goes next, but she's still shaky from her fall on the beam and unable to catch up to my score. With just Eliza left, I'm in 1st and she's in 3rd, in danger of losing her spot on the podium.

When Eliza performs her first pass, my jaw basically hits the floor. I knew she was also debuting a new pass, but she has never really nailed it during practice. But she does now. The rest of her routine is nearly flawless, and even though I know it's going to be close, a huge smile travels over my face as I give her a bear hug when she's off the mat.

It turns out to be a tie, and since Eliza's execution score was higher than mine, she gets 1st. I'm a little disappointed, but I'm mostly content with 2nd and super happy for Eliza, since she hasn't gotten 1st at an all-around meet since we were in middle school. Even though it wasn't my best meet, I still did a solid job and proved my ability as a gymnast to the scouts watching.

Cassidy's pissed. She leaves almost immediately, but not before she glares at me and Eliza as we talk excitedly with our family and coaches.

"She's such a bitch," Zola says. "This is exactly why I don't do sports." I roll my eyes at her. "Music people are worse than sports people," I say.

She shrugs. "Touché." Matt Jonsen, a fellow senior on the men's team, comes up to us.

"Party tonight, my house, 9:00 pm. You're invited. You too, Zola," he says to us.

I look at my parents. "Please?" I say. They both nod.

"See ya there!" I reply, grinning.

As I'm about to head to the changing room, a tall, thin man with graying hair and round glasses stops me. "Sofia Torres?" He asks. Wait. He looks familiar. Wait - there's no way. He can't be the Yale scout. Can he?

"That's me," I say, holding out my hand, trying not "Nice to meet you!"

"Hi Sofia, I'm Alan Westland." It's him. Oh my god. It's him. "I'm a scout from Yale University, and we've been watching your performance for a while now. With your talent and academic record, you would make an excellent member of the student body. We'd like to offer you a spot at the University and on the team."

My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I try to comprehend what he just said. Oh my god. I'm so overwhelmed I can barely talk.

"Thank you so much, sir," I say, my voice slightly shaking. Mom and Mami are watching me from across the room. "What's going on?" Mom mouths. I hold up my hand and turn back to Mr. Westland.

"I would love to be on your team," I respond, still shaking but also grinning. "This is such an honor sir. Thank you!"

He nods. "I'll fax you the commit form and other important documents. You have a couple weeks to make an official decision, but the sooner, the better." I thank him again, shake his hand, and wait until he disappears out of my sight to run over to Mom and Mami.

"Holy shit!" I say, jumping up and down. Mami glares at me and gestures towards Bella. "Sorry, sorry. Oh my god!" "Sofia?" Mom asks. I can't believe it. "He just offered me a spot at Yale!" I say, tears streaming down my face. Mom's face lights up as she shrieks and Mami's jaw drops. "I'm going to be a bulldog!"


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, this chapter depicts the trauma that I mention in the description for this. I will state this very explicitly: this chapter contains a depiction of rape, and this chapter and following chapters will deal with the aftermath. Please do not read if this could trigger you in any way. Please take care of yourself.

xxx

When I get home, I change into the Yale T-shirt I bought during the college tour and a pair of jean shorts. As I stare at myself in the mirror, makeup slightly smeared from crying with tears of joy in the car, I feel like I'm in a dream. There's no way this is happening. I blink, once, twice, three times. Long, silky, black hair. Warm chesnut eyes. 5' 6", tall for a gymnast. Me, wearing a Yale T-Shirt, a shirt I now know I can wear with pride for the rest of my life.

"Sof!" Mom calls from downstairs. "We're going!" I pull my gaze from myself in the mirror and skip down the stairs.

I can't keep the grin off my face. I am so happy. "Where are we going?"

"I like your shirt," Mami says, putting her hand on my shoulder. "We thought Italian, since it's your favorite. What do you want?" 

I clap my hands together. "That sounds absolutely amazing!" I say.

"Great!" Mom says, grinning right back at me. "I'll text Meredith."

"Wait, Mom, you don't have to do that," I say. "Seriously, it's no big deal."

"Oh, come on, Sof! It's a celebration!" Mami cheers and Mark and Bella laugh.

"Okay, okay." We meet the Shepherds at our favorite Italian place, Lisa's. Even though I'm currently training, I decide to splurge and get fettuccini alfredo, my favorite. It's a wonderful meal, full of laughter and great conversation. Ellis, who's 14, can't stop complementing me.

"Does this mean I can get a Yale shirt?" She asks Meredith. Derek rolls his eyes, but Meredith laughs and nods.

"And guess what?" I say. "You can come for a weekend and stay in my dorm if you want!"

Her eyes light up and she starts bouncing up and down in her seat. "Seriously? Oh. My. God. That would be so cool!" For the rest of dinner, she starts to plan out my dorm room for me. I laugh and go along with it, happy to be in the moment, celebrating with the people I love.

I go home for a couple hours before the party and watch Netflix for the first time in months. House MD is my favorite. I love trying to diagnose the patients before the team does. And to be honest, I'm pretty dang good at it. Perks of having doctor parents, I guess.

Around 8:50, I get a text from Zola. "Okay, I'm really sorry, but I'm having terribleeeee cramps," she writes. "I'd love to go but I'm just not feeling up to it. We can hang out tomorrow.

Man. That sucks. I was looking forward to chilling with her, but there's always another time. "Do what you need to do!" I respond. "Feel better and I'll see you tomorrow! Love yaaaa." I turn off Netflix and change into a crop top and then apply some makeup. Mom and Mami give me permission to spend the night at Eliza's after the party. I end up arriving about 30 minutes late, but honestly, who arrives on time to parties anyways? 

Matt's parents are away for the weekend, and so he has the whole house to himself. Loud EDM music is blaring as people stand around, talk, and sway to the music. I quickly locate Eliza and give her a big hug.

"Hey girl," I say. "Zola couldn't come. She isn't feeling well."

Matt comes up from behind me holding drinks in both of his hands. "Really? Man, I was looking forward to see her," he says. It's totally obvious that he has a huge crush on her, but he's too scared to act out on it, even though I've told him multiple times that it's worth a shot. "Well anyway, want a drink?" He asks, holding out a red solo cup.

I shrug. "I don't know," I say. I try to be pretty careful when it comes to alcohol. I can't really risk hurting my gymnastics or academic career or damaging my family's hard-earned reputation. That's not to say that I haven't tried alcohol. I'm just really picky about when and where I drink.

He puts the drink in my hand anyway. "You just got into Yale!" He says. "That definitely deserves a drink."

"Alright, alright," I agree, taking a sip. Interesting. Some type of punch with vodka mixed in it. Not bad, but definitely not something I should have too much of.

"Sofia!" I turn to my right to see a group of kids from one of the neighboring teams. Actually, they're from Cassidy's team. Weird. I guess Matt invited them. "Congrats on Yale," Amanda, the girl who got 5th today, says. "That's awesome!"

"Thanks girl!" I say. "Congrats on Oklahoma!"

I continue chatting with them, but when I get the chance, I lean over and subtly whisper in Eliza's ear, "Is Cassidy here?"

Eliza forces a smile and I mentally groan. Great. "Yeah, she's out back."

"Well, that's fantastic." I say. I really do not want to see her again today, especially after the comment she made about my dad. As the party goes on, I keep an eye out for her. Some people are dancing, but I choose to chill with my gymnastics friends and chat.

"Okay, it's so hot in here," Eliza says. "I need to go get some fresh air."

"Wait, Eliza.." 

"Oh, come on, Sofia." She grabs me by the arm. I sigh and head out back with her. Cassidy is in the pool along with Ashley, Ryan, and Jake, seniors from her team. A couple of other kids from both teams are sitting on the patio, smoking weed.

"Oh, ew," I say. "Let's go back inside." As Eliza and I turn around to go inside, I hear Cassidy call my name.

"Sofia! Come here!" She shouts, leaning over the edge of the pool.

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "What do you want?"

"Sheesh." She hisses, faking indignation. "We just want to talk to you." I sigh, but I know I need to be the bigger person.

"Alright, whatever." I step off the patio and walk towards the pool, one of the round ones that stick up about 5 feet from the ground. The damp grass tickles my feet.

"We just wanted to say congratulations," Ashley slurs.

I squint. "Mhmm, I'm sure." Wait, where's Eliza? I turn around and see that she's gone back into the house, leaving me alone. I feel a prickle of annoyance as I turn back to face Cassidy.

"Can't we all be friends?" Jake asks.

Cassidy scoffs. "I'm not friends with little bitches," she snarls.

"This is stupid." I reply. "I'm leaving."

"Wait!" Ryan reaches out and grabs me by the arm. "Is it true that you have two moms?"

This again? "Why is that relevant?" I ask. Cassidy chuckles. I glare at her.

"So it's true then," Ryan responds.

"Yeah." Ashley giggles. "Her moms are dykes."

"Hey!" I say, anger rushing through my body. "Don't you ever say that again."

"Chill, Sofia," Ryan coos. I glare at him. "You are way too uptight." 

"I'm leaving," I say. Just as I turn around, Cassidy reaches out and pours her beer down my shirt. "Oops." She giggles.

"What the actual hell?" I tighten my hands into fists. "What is your problem?" Ashley and Cassidy continue laughing, and the group of kids stare and giggle. Shit. I can't go back inside to the main part of the house and face everyone. I need some privacy. I half-walk, half-walk to the door that leads to the basement. Luckily, it's open.

I make my way to the bathroom and shut the door. Grabbing paper towels and wetting them with water from the faucet, I try to clean my shirt, but it's no use. Crap. I smell like cheap-beer, I'm flustered, and I'm really freaking pissed off.

I see the bathroom door open in my peripheral vision. I turn around to see Jake standing in front of me. He reaches behind him to close and lock the door.

"Wait." I try to get past him to unlock the door, but he sticks his arm to block me. "What are you doing?" I push against him, but my 120-pound frame is nothing in comparison to his 200-pound one.

"I'm really sorry about Cassidy," he says, walking forwards, slowly pushing me back towards the wall. My heart is pounding in my ears.

"What are you doing? Let me out!" My voice quavers. Shit. This can't be happening.

"Shut up," he hisses, grabbing my neck and pushing me hard against the wall. With the other hand, he grabs a wad of toilet paper and shoves it in my mouth. "You know you want this."

I try to scream, but I choke on the paper. His hand is getting tighter and tighter around my throat. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. My hands flail and grabs his wrists. In one motion, he knocks them down, knees me in the stomach, and pushes me to the ground, face first on the cold ceramic tile. He has both of my hands in his grip. I wiggle back and forth, trying to get free, but he knees me in the back.

No. No. This can't be happening. With one hand grasping my wrists tightly, he pulls down my jean shorts. Then he pulls down my underwear. I'm screaming as loud as I can, but it's muffled by the toilet paper and the music blaring from upstairs and oh my god this is really happening.

And suddenly, I'm pushed forward and my body explodes in pain. I scream and scream and scream as he moves on top of me, in me, and I scream and I scream and I scream and my wrists hurt and my stomach hurts and my pelvis hurts and my thighs hurt and everything hurts and it won't stop and it won't stop and it won't stop and –

He grunts, gets up, kicks me to the side, and quickly unlocks and exits the bathroom. My face feels cool against the ceramic tile. My heart feels like it's going to burst. Everything hurts. My body is on fire. Where is everyone? Where is Eliza? I need help. I want my parents.

I'm going to throw up. I pull my body up and my bones and muscles and joints scream as I pull the toilet paper out of my mouth just in time. I throw up the punch and the fettuccini alfredo and innocence and my Yale acceptance. I throw up until there's blood streaked in the bile that rings the toilet. I lay my head against the seat and try to breathe, but I can't because the tears are stuck on my face and in my mouth and in my lungs.

I lay there until I hear my breathing. I slowly get up. Oh my god, it hurts so bad. I'm half naked. I put my hand down there. I'm bleeding. I'm bleeding. Shit. I don't look, just pull on my underwear and shorts as quickly as I can without fainting from the pain.

It takes me a lifetime to stand up. When I do, I look at myself in the mirror. I am the ghost of Sofia, eyes red and swollen, skin paler than snow, with mascara tears still dripping down my face. I grab a paper towel and rub at the mascara until my face is raw.

I walk slowly towards the door, pain exploding between my thighs with every step. My head is spinning. Fireflies dance in front of my eyes. Once I get to the door, I slowly poke my head out. Everyone must have gone inside. No Cassidy. No Eliza. No Jake. Jake. Shit. What time is it? 

I look down at my watch. The screen is cracked. 1:07. I walk around the house, holding my hand out for balance. When I get to my car, I jump in, shut the door, and lock it as fast as I can.

Head spinning, hands shaking, painstakingly slowly, I text Eliza. "I don't feel well. Going home." I drive myself to Seattle Presbyterian. By the time I get there, my hands have gripped the steering wheel for so long that they pulse with pain when I try to straighten them.

I walk into the ER, up to the front desk. I don't want anyone to look at me. People are looking at me. Shit. I face forward, grasp my aching hands together, and try to continue breathing.

"How can we help you, Ma'am?" The receptionist asks. I open my mouth, but no words come out.

"Ma'am?" She asks again, head tilting to the left.

I look down at my shoes, my favorite white converse. I'm never going to wear them again. "I was raped," I whisper, so quiet I barely even hear it. But she obviously does, and she ushers me back to a private room. My head hurts.

"The forensic nurse will be here shortly," she murmurs softly, pity tinging her voice. She knows who I am. Everybody here does. Everyone in medicine on the West Coast knows who Callie Torres and Arizona Robbins are. But she can't say anything to them. She knows that. I know that. But she still knows who I am.

The forensic nurse is nice, and kind, and gentle, and I want to puke throughout the entire exam. She gives me a bunch of medicine. She asks me if I want to tell the police. I say no. She says she will keep the rape kit just in case I change my mind later. She takes my clothes. Thank god. I never want to see them again. She gives me a pair of sweats to wear home. She cleans up the bruises on my wrists and my neck and my abdomen. She wipes the tears off my face. She asks me if I have anyone I can call. She knows my parents. I say no.

I leave the hospital at 7 am. I drive by a bridge on the way home. I want to jump. I don't. I drive around. I buy myself breakfast from McDonalds. I throw it in the trash without taking a bite. My head hurts. My thighs hurt. I can't get home too early. I drive around some more.

I get home at 8:30. Mom and Mami are finally at work. Mark and Bella are at Meredith's. I let myself in the house and go up to my room. Nothing feels familiar. I'm going to puke again. I wrap my arms around the toilet in my room and dry heave. There's nothing left in my stomach.

I shower for two hours. I scrub and scrub and scrub until my skin is raw and bleeding. I don't feel clean. I scrub some more. It's 11 when I get in bed, after stealing from Tramadol from my parent's bathroom. Mom takes it because PTSD makes it difficult for her to sleep. I take 2 of them. I take 4 Advil too. I want to take more but I don't.

I wake up at 8 pm to the phone ringing. It's Mom. I pick it up.

"Hey," I say. My head still hurts.

"Hey Sof! I'm really sorry about this, but left my laptop at home, and I really need it. Can you bring it?"

No I can't. No I can't. I was just raped. Why is she asking me this? "Okay," I respond. "Be there in 20."

"Thank you so much! You're the best." I change into a sweatshirt and jeans. Mom can't see my bruises. She can't handle this. They can't handle this. My hands shake. I drive to Grey-Sloan. I don't know if I believe in heaven. I don't want to after last night. I don't want my dad to know what happened.

Just seeing a hospital causes my heart rate to skyrocket. At this rate, I'll have a heart attack within the next week. I try to hide my shaking as I walk into the hospital. I don't want to be here. I don't want to see Mom.

I want Mom and Mami to give me hugs and cookies and play princess and astronaut with me and sing me to sleep and read me stories. No I don't. No I don't. I do. I do. Oh god, I do. I'm being silly. But that doesn't mean that it's not difficult not to cry.

I walk to the lounge. I don't want people to see me. But it's inevitable. When Amelia calls my name, I feel like I'm going to pass out.

"Congrats on Yale!" She gives me a huge hug. I am seriously going to heave. Luckily, she pulls back just in time.

"Thanks!" I say, forcing a smile on my face. She frowns. Damn it. She's always been way too nosy and intuitive. Damn it.

"Are you okay?" She asks. 

I laugh. It's hollow. "Yeah, totally! Just exhausted."

"Party too hard last night?" She jokes. She doesn't know the least of it.

I force a smile and then head for the lounge. Mom and Mami are both there, sharing a sandwich. Mom doesn't even like sandwiches.

I hand her the laptop. Her eyes gleam blue and happiness. I smile even though my stomach is thrashing back and forth. I smile even though the pain between my legs makes me want to scream.

"Thank you Sof!" She gives me a hug. I force myself to hug her back. I want to take another shower. "We're so proud of you!"

I talk to them until they're thoroughly convinced that everything is okay. I go back to my car, drive to an empty parking lot, and scream until my throat feels like its bleeding. When I get home, I take 2 more tramadol, 5 shots of vodka, and 4 more Advil. I curl up in bed, holding my stuffed kitten tight, and cry until I fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since I've posted. I went back and forth on this many times, but I've decided to write from Arizona's perspective for the next couple of chapters. Also, in the last chapter – I meant trazodone, an antidepressant that's used for insomnia, not tramadol, a synthetic opioid painkiller.

Chapter 6 – Arizona's Perspective – Monday morning

It's been a great weekend. I got to watch Sofia do the thing she loves and spend quality time with my family. And, of course, Sof got into Yale. I'm so proud I feel like I could burst. All of it, the pain, the tears, the fights, were worth it. Callie and Sof and I made it through and now she's going to a wonderful college to do what she loves. I'm on cloud 9 as I practically skip through the hospital, finishing things up so I can go home and get some sleep.

After checking in with my patients and updating Alex on the status of the patients, I sneak into the on-call room I know Callie's sleeping in. She's on her stomach, slightly snoring. I can't help but smile as I lean down and kiss her forehead.

"What?" She says as she sits up quickly, looking around. Her eyes soften when she sees me. "Oh, it's you." She says, laying back down and closing her eyes.

"Callie," I say. She opens one eye slightly.

"Zona, I'm trying to sleep." She throws her arm over her eyes.

I sigh. "Alright, Cal, just wanted to say good morning. I'll pick up Mark and Bella from Meredith's. Can you grab something for dinner on the way home?"

She grunts. I think that's a yes. She's not a morning person. "Okay, see you tonight," I say, leaning down and kissing her cheek.

"See ya," she mumbles as I exit the on call room. I roll my eyes and laugh. She's something else. I head out to the parking lot. Deep reds and oranges dance across the sky as the sun rises.

When I get home after picking up Bella and Mark from Meredith's, I notice that the car Sofia drives is still in the driveway. Weird. She should be at gymnastics. I make Bella and Mark pancakes and then head upstairs to Sofia's room. She's curled up in a fetal position under a mountain of blankets.

"Sofie," I whisper as I sit on the edge of her bed. She sits up and rubs her eyes. "Are you okay?" I ask.

She blinks once, twice, and lays back down. "I'm sick." She says softly.

I put my hand to her forehead. She doesn't have a fever, but she does look like she's not feeling too well. "How so?" I ask, rubbing her back.

"Nausea," she responds, looking at the wall. "And I threw up."

"Did you drink Saturday night?" I ask softly. She knows we don't want her to drink, but she also knows she can tell us anything without fearing that we'll explode. She stiffens slightly.

"Mom, you know hangovers don't last for more than 24 hours," she says. "Can I just please go back to sleep?"

"Okay, okay, Sofie." I stand up and head towards the door. "Let me know if you need anything."

She doesn't respond. She must be feeling really bad. Huh. She doesn't get sick often, and when she does, she still tries to go to practice. So when I get downstairs, I pull out my phone to text Callie. "Hey. Sof's sick, some stomach-bug thing. Can you pick up some soup and Gatorade? Thanks, love you." I add a few heart emojis at the end for good measure. Callie thinks they're silly, but I think they're adorable.

I put Bella down for a nap and hang out with Mark in the living room while I wait for Callie to come home. I turn on the news as Mark builds a castle out of Legos. He looks so much like Callie, with deep chestnut eyes and silky brown hair so dark it's almost black. I carried Bella, and so she has my dimples and my blue eyes with light auburn hair. I am so full of joy at the family Callie and I have created. There was a time, when Callie was in New York with Penny, that I believed I would never have anything like this, that I would be unhappy and alone. Funny how time changes everything. I can hardly believe that I ever felt that hopeless, that empty, that angry. Time may not heal all wounds, but it certainly soothes them.

Callie gets home a couple hours later with the chicken noodle soup and Gatorade for Sofia. "Hey hun," I say, pulling her close to me, smiling as I lean in for a kiss. Our lips brush, once, twice, and a twinge of longing rushes through me.

"We have some free time," I whisper as my lips brush her ear.

"The kids are home," Callie whispers back, voice tinged with lust.

"We'll be quiet," I say as I press kisses to her neck. Her heart is beating fast and strong, but she holds out a hand to stop me from leaning in for another kiss.

"Wait. Let me take this to Sof first," she says, gesturing to the Gatorade.

"Okay," I say, pulling back. I follow her up the stairs, breathing in her scent of lavender shampoo and clean sheets. Sofia is still curled up in a ball, awake, staring at the wall.

"Hey Sof," Callie says, pressing a kiss to Sofia's temple. "I brought some Gatorade."

"Thanks," she says, still looking at wall. My longing for Callie is replaced with concern. This is really unlike Sofia, even when she's sick. I lean down until my eyes are level with Sof's. "What's going on?"

She averts her eyes to the side. "Nothing, Mom. I just don't feel well." I place a hand to her face softly.

"You sure?" I ask. She grits her teeth.

"Yes, Mom, jeez. Just let me sleep!" She pulls the covers over her head.

Callie and I look at each other, and she shrugs. "Okay, Sofie," I say, standing up. "We'll be downstairs if you need us."

When we get downstairs, I sit down on the couch and pat the space beside me. Callie sits down and puts her arm around me. Breathing in lavender, I lean my head against her shoulder and sigh.

"Well, that certainly killed the mood," she quips.

"You think?" I burrow up against her and close my eyes. "I'm sleepy," I say.

"You've been up for over 24 hours," she responds as she runs her hand through my hair. "You should sleep."

"Hmm," I murmur. I lay there, leaning against Callie, until I fall asleep.


End file.
